


More Than That

by Quicksilver_ink



Category: Suikoden III
Genre: Coming Out, Friendship, Gen, Queer Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-11
Updated: 2009-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 07:18:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilver_ink/pseuds/Quicksilver_ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Percival returns to active duty on the eve of the Zexen-Tinto war, he and Borus take some time to catch up... and challenge each other's assumptions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than That

Perhaps the most unlikely sound I had ever heard in Borus's room was the _skritch-scratch_ of pen across dry parchment. It's not that he never has any paperwork, but he nearly always did it in the salon.

"Writing endearments to Lady Chris?" I asked from the doorway. The desk was positioned so that his back was to me; I'd slipped in and leaned casually against the doorframe. With any luck he'd have no idea how long I'd been there.

"No," he responded shortly, not pausing in his literary labor.

I frowned. I'd expected more reaction than that. "Are you sure? I've been gone so long, I was certain you'd be engaged to her by now. Surely two years without my interference was enough to woo her?"

He straightened in his seat, still facing away from me. I could see the faintest hint of tension in his shoulders. "I'm writing to my sister Ellen." He pushed himself away from the table and turned to look at me. "How long have you been standing there, anyway?"

I settled for honesty, briefly. "Just a few minutes." I scratched an ear. "You know, I don't think I've ever met her. I hope she doesn't have the Redrum chin. That would spoil any woman's appearance."

Borus sighed. "No, she takes after our mother. Both of my sisters do."

I chuckled. "Just as well. Are either of them married? Perhaps you cou-"

"No."

The word was so forceful I took a step back. Borus has always had a temper, but his black look startled me. "I was only joking."

Borus continued to level that black look at me. "Her husband was a trader. His caravan was one of the ones attacked last month by Tinto."

I winced, ashamed of my careless words. I'd arrived at Brass Castle just that day, and been briefed just a few hours before; Tinto was picking off our trade caravans with their regular army disguised as bandits. "I'm sorry."

"I am, too." He sighed. "They burned everything, afterwards. There wasn't enough left to be sure who's who... Poor Ellen's convinced he's still alive."

I closed my eyes. "Any chance he might be?"

"They haven't been taking prisoners, Percival."

When I looked at him again, his shoulders had drooped, but his face was grim. "She has nightmares. I can't even…" His hand clenched. "I couldn't even protect her from that. My own sister. Damn the council." He slammed his fist on the desk, rattling the pen to the floor and nearly upsetting the inkwell. "Didn't Chris tell you? They won't even admit it's a real war. It was pulling teeth just to call you and your cavalry back to active service. She and Salome were petitioning the council for enough troops to do a decent boarder sweep while those bastards were killing my sister's husband. That very day. Dammit." This time the inkwell did overturn.

Borus swore and snatched up his correspondence to his sister; I hurried over and righted the container. Thick ink, an expensive brand that oozed as much as ran; it made a black mess dribbling down the slanted writing-desk to puddle on the floor.

It was all over Borus's boots, too, and he spent the next few minutes scrubbing frantically at them while I mopped up the rest. They were still discolored when I'd finished.

"Just say you lent them to Salome," I advised as he admitted defeat to the remaining inkstains.

"Hah." Borus viewed them morosely. "They were new, too." He turned to grimace at his unfinished letter, then sighed. "Enough bad news for one night. It's hardly the proper way to welcome you back. Would you care for something to drink?"

A giggly maid I hadn't seen before – a reminder that it had been two years, after all – brought us a bottle from the cellar. Borus produced the glasses we'd always used when drinking together, and poured the wine with the same practiced ease he always had.

"To Sir Borus, of the fearsome temper," I said loftily, raising my glass in a toast. "May his cellar never run dry."

"To Sir Percival, on his return to the Zexen Knights," Borus returned heartily. "May he someday obtain some wit."

We sat there, sipping new wine from old glasses. I could feel the last two years fade away, and the years before them rising about me like the cushions of a comfortable chair. Iksay and her fields drifted into memory that felt more distant than the mere week it had been.

"So," I said at last, stretching out my legs. "How are things with Lady Chris?"

Borus shrugged, tilting his glass and watching the wine roll within it. "You saw her today. Besieged by paperwork, scrambling to get the army in order so we can actually move out sometime this month and deal with Tinto."

I frowned. "She's not going to work herself into collapse again, is she?" I asked, remembering such an incident when she'd first taken command. She'd had a problem with that as a cadet a few times, too, now that I thought about it.

"I don't think so. She knows better, now. That was years ago. And besides…" Borus stood up abruptly to refill his glass. He took longer than he needed to, a sure sign he was struggling for the right words. "Besides," he continued, sitting back down. "She's strong. Stronger than she was."

The words he'd always left unspoken - _she doesn't need_ my _help -_ hovered between us. I tried to bat it away with jokes, my tone carefully light. "You sure? I'd be happy to take her dancing in Iksay again, if she needs a vacation."

Borus's sigh reminded me once again how long it had been; I'd been expecting him to stiffen or retort angrily. "I won't stop you. One of the others might."

"You don't mind if I woo the fair Lady Chris, and steal her heart?" I asked with genuine incredulity. "Whatever happened to the man named, let's see, Borus Redrum, I believe it was? He was a man with blood in his veins. I seem to be talking to the victim of a plague of leeches."

Borus glowered at me in response. "I _would_ mind. But I wouldn't stop you. That's for Lady Chris to do." He stared glumly into his wine. "Assuming she wants to stop you."

I was agog. Two years ago, getting Borus to admit that Chris might enjoy someone's attentions would have been impossible; just the suggestion was enough to send him into apoplexy. It was clear he'd suffered some great disappointment over the past couple of years, if he'd become so stoic about things. Either that, or a severe head injury. Maybe one of those nasty fevers that leave people with addled wits.

"I…wouldn't actually try for her, you know," I said slowly, trying to find the best way to explain that I'd never actually had any interest in Lady Chris as a romantic partner. I'd had my fun, pretending to be a rival for our captain's affections, but Borus clearly needed support now. And even if he hadn't taken leave of his senses, I'd decided in Iksay it was time I told him the truth anyhow.

"What?" Borus was plainly startled. "I always thought… never mind. I didn't do this for you, or that Harmonian spy, or Salome, or anyone else."

I opened my mouth to assure him that Lady Chris was probably the last person I'd considered romantically, but there was something odd about the way he'd phrased that. "You didn't do _what_ for me?" I asked with a frown.

My friend turned his glass too-carefully in his hands. "I told our captain that I … understood that my affections were not returned, and so I would cease pursuit of hers."

"You did _what_?" I demanded, slamming my glass on the table. Wine sloshed over the edges and onto my hand. I wiped it up with a handkerchief as I continued. "You're shitting me! I don't believe it. You're not that crazy."

Borus folded his arms. "I'm not lying. Or joking. I told you, I told Chris I'd respectfully given up on her. My schoolboyish pining wasn't doing either of us any favors."

"What the hell did you do that for?" I shook my head. "You two seem to have become closer friends over the past year" – I'd noticed he'd dropped her title twice now – "and she must have forgotten about that Harmonian by now. You finally had a chance! And you expect me to believe you just threw it away? Just like that?" I made a sweeping gesture with my arm, spilling my wine again.

"Yes, just like that," Borus said testily. "Only without the flourish and spillage."

I looked down at the puddle of wine on the table, shaking my head. "What a waste. She's the best thing that ever happened to you."

"She _didn't_ happen to me, Percival," Borus growled. "That's the entire point."

"She still might, if you actually put in some effort," I retorted. "Pining in secret obviously didn't work. There's the war coming up. We both know how reminders of mortality drive people together. Or if you wind up saving her life, then maybe…"

"Secret? Hah. Looking back, I don't think I could've made it any more obvious, and you know it."

He had me there. I stared glumly into my wineglass, which was nearly empty at this point - my fault, I know. Would he have spoken up to Chris before – before it became painfully obvious – if I hadn't been working so hard to keep things awkward for my own entertainment? It was possible. "I should've told you before, I guess."

"Told me what?" Borus topped up his own glass.

I took a deep breath. "That I was never interested in Chris. Not how you were," I reached out my glass for a refill, but didn't meet his eyes.

Borus was quiet for a moment – was he surprised, or just thinking? "Then why take her dancing in Iksay?" he asked at last.

"No one got a chance to dance that evening," I informed him. "The Grasslanders attacked before it got started. I took her because I thought she needed a break, that's all." I snuck a glance at his face.

Borus's eyebrows were raised skeptically. "That's all?"

"On my honor as a knight," I told him loftily, still avoiding his eyes. "I had no base intentions as regards to our Lady Captain. Never have." I took an exaggerated pose of reflection for a moment, as if I were thinking. My hands had gone clammy on my wineglass. "Nor the myriad of ladies and maids I've flirted with, either."

"You've always been so popular with them, I assumed…" Borus sounded taken aback.

"That I was tumbling them all in turn? Hah." I snorted. "Borus, I was popular with the maids because I'm a knight in shiny armor who will kiss their hands and pay them pretty compliments _without_ thinking that entitles me to anything from them." I folded my arms to hide my nerves. "And that's not just because I grew up a commoner, or because I believe in chivalry. They knew there was no possibility of a misunderstanding, because I'm not interested in women. Period."

There. I'd said it. I looked at him, finally.

There was a long silence from Borus. "Oh," he said, finally. "Um. Is that why you always tried to get Louis drunk?"

"No!" I was stung. "I did that because it was funny. It had nothing to do with all this." I gestured vaguely. "Louis's a kid! I'm not interested in boys any more than… than Chris is! It's men that I like, Borus. Adult men. I'm not a pervert like Guillaume." I looked down and drummed my fingers on the seat of my chair, grumpily.

"Oh," Borus said again. "So…er, is there a reason you're telling me all this, then?"

I looked up at his face; he looked extremely uncomfortable. It hurt; first he'd taken me for a pedophile, and now he just wished I'd kept it to myself. I stood, intending to leave, but suddenly it occurred to me that just maybe there was, at least in part, a more specific reason for his expression. Well, that was easy to solve. I grinned viciously to myself.

Then I bent down on one knee in front of him. "It's because I'm desperately in love with you, Borus" I told him in falsetto, batting my eyelashes for good measure.

Borus choked on his wine. I pounded him on the back until he stopped coughing. "I was _joking_ , you fool."

"I gathered that," he said sourly. "I suppose you felt I deserved it for the Louis remark."

"Yes, you did." I returned to my seat and crossed my arms. "I'm not some a maniac who chases children or everything that can grow a beard. I'm not suddenly a different person just because I've told you I fancy men, Borus."

He winced. "All right, all right. Point taken. I'm sorry."

"Accepted," I said stiffly.

We sat in awkward silence, staring at our wineglasses.

"So, is there anyone you… like?" he asked, slowly, as if he wasn't sure he was using the right words. He still looked uncomfortable, but he was making an effort. I felt a tiny knot of tension release.

I shrugged. "Not really. I'm content to be a bachelor for the time being – guess I make a better soldier than farmer in that regard. And even if I did, it's… tricky, you might say… to find someone who reciprocates. More than it is for usual folk, I mean." I thought a bit. "Well, I suppose I could go to Matilda, they've got something of a reputation…"

Borus snorted. "I met a Matilda Knight once. He was far too in love with himself to be interested in any sort of sentient being of any persuasion. Which, I suppose, would make him a perfect match for you."

"I'm not _that_ enamored of myself. Why, sometimes I even go an entire day without looking in a mirror," I informed him.

"More like an hour," he retorted. "You're a preening peacock. You have been since we were squires. What I meant was that you're clearly not a sentient being."

I shook my head. "Borus, Borus, you wound me. Grievously."

He snorted.

Awkward silence returned. I refilled my wineglass, more for something to be doing than because I wanted more to drink.

"I can ring for more" Borus offered. "The new maid's quite pretty. You'll like-" he stumbled mid-sentence. He recovered quickly. "Well, maybe you won't. But _I_ like her."

"Carrying a torch for another woman already? Or maybe more than a torch?" I said, a little more nastily than I needed to. It wasn't fair of me, but Borus admitting he appreciated the charms of another woman besides our lady captain was still jarring. It had been part of how I saw him for so long that it almost felt like the man seated across from me couldn't possibly be Borus Redrum.

Borus glared at me. "She's pretty to look at, and once she stops giggling from nervousness, she's got a good head. Appreciating beauty and brains doesn't mean I'm flipping skirts right and left."

"Sorry." I grinned apologetically. "I'm just not used to you _not_ mooning over Lady Chris. It will take getting used to."

He returned my grin with his own rueful smile. "I'm not used to it either, if it comes to that."

Well, I had nothing wise or witty to say to that. We returned to silence, a bit less awkward than it had been before.

"Friends still, then?" I asked quietly, eventually.

He nodded. "Friends. And… there's more to Percival Fraulein than his fancying of men."

I raised my glass to that. "Indeed. And more to Borus Redrum than his love of Lady Chris.


End file.
